Resurrection After Hours
after “Untitled” (Portrait of Ross in L.A.) by Felix Gonzalez-Torres
Every night, as per the artist’s instructions,
workers replenish the pile of candy in the corner
of the gallery, bring the multi-colored sparkle
back to 175 pounds: his lover’s weight when healthy.
We all take something a little
sweet, a little lime, a little raspberry.
I imagine he called his lover sugar,
which sounds matronly and affected coming
from my mouth. I call you baby and
your unallegorical body tastes of salt, a little
sour, but if I lost you I too
would make my grief a public carnival,
ask strangers to help take you away
in silver crinkles revealing a sweetness so
impossible it must be manufactured, turn
my love into bright primaries children
run to shrieking candy candy.
after “Untitled” (Portrait of Ross in L.A.) by Felix Gonzalez-Torres
Every night, as per the artist’s instructions,
workers replenish the pile of candy in the corner
of the gallery, bring the multi-colored sparkle
back to 175 pounds: his lover’s weight when healthy.
We all take something a little
sweet, a little lime, a little raspberry.
I imagine he called his lover sugar,
which sounds matronly and affected coming
from my mouth. I call you baby and
your unallegorical body tastes of salt, a little
sour, but if I lost you I too
would make my grief a public carnival,
ask strangers to help take you away
in silver crinkles revealing a sweetness so
impossible it must be manufactured, turn
my love into bright primaries children
run to shrieking candy candy.
